Demon Hunting In the Deep South (16 page)

BOOK: Demon Hunting In the Deep South
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Evie worried her bottom lip with her teeth, her stomach churning. The last thing she wanted to do was ruin Addy’s wedding.

“Addy, maybe your mama is right,” she said. “Maybe it would be better if I bowed out.”

Addy set her florist’s shears on the counter, the movement slow and deliberate. “Now you listen to me, Sarah Evangeline Douglass. You’re my best friend in the whole wide world. You are going to be my maid of honor and nobody else.” She glared at Bitsy. “Especially not that cat molester. Even if I have to get married in jail.”

“Oh.” Evie blinked the sudden tears from her eyes. “Well, if that’s the way you feel about it.”

“That’s the way I feel about it.”

Bitsy fanned herself. “Adara Jean, married
in jail
? You can’t mean it.”

“God’s sake, Bitsy, relax,” Muddy said. “Evie’s out on bail until the grand jury meets, and that could be months. Amasa says.”

Addy picked up her shears again. “So, that’s it, Mama. It’s settled. Evie’s in, Bernadette’s out, and the wedding is still on.”

Brand and Ansgar materialized behind Bitsy without warning.

“I am exceedingly glad to hear it, little one,” Brand said, pulling Addy into his arms. “I would be in deep despair were it otherwise.”

“Brand, I missed you,” Addy squealed. Flinging her arms around his neck, she kissed him like she hadn’t seen him in months.

Spontaneous combustion, no two ways about it, Evie thought wistfully, watching the two of them. It was always like that with Addy and Brand.

“Goodness, Brand, you startled me!” Bitsy said when he released Addy at last. “I didn’t hear you come in.” She offered Ansgar a bright smile. “And I see you’ve brought your brother with you. What a nice surprise! Good to see you again, Alastair.”

Evie frowned in confusion. This morning at the sheriff’s office, Trey had acted like he recognized Ansgar, and now Bitsy was all “nice to see you again,” too. This obviously wasn’t Ansgar’s first time in Hannah, but how come she never met him? He was Brand’s “brother,” and she was Addy’s best friend. It didn’t add up.

Ansgar bowed to Bitsy. “The name is Ansgar, ma’am.”

“Oh, yes, silly me. Are you in town until the wedding? Brand didn’t think you’d make it.”

“I felt compelled to leave.” His silver gaze shifted to Evie. “But found I could not stay away, after all.”

So he
was
here before. Had she met him and then forgotten him?

As if. Six-foot-four-inch stud muffins didn’t grow on trees in Hannah. Evie rubbed her pounding temples. This was crazy. No,
she
was crazy to forget a guy like Ansgar. She struggled to put the pieces together, to make herself remember, but it was no use. Thinking about it made her head hurt and her stomach feel funny.

“Wonderful.” Bitsy’s brow wrinkled. “Brand, now your brother is here, I’m sure you’ll want him to be your best man. Do you think your cousin Rafe will mind getting bumped to groomsman? Ansgar, we’ll have to get you down to Tompkins’s right away for a fitting. I just hope Tweedy can get you a tux in time. Goodness, you Dalvahni boys are all so big and hand-some.”

Ansgar looked a little befuddled, kind of like a poleaxed bull. Bitsy affected most people that way.

“I’ll take him down there, Miss Bitsy,” Evie volunteered, glad to have something else to think about. “Will this afternoon be soon enough?”

Bitsy’s brow smoothed. “That would be lovely, dear. I know you’re glad to have your young man back in town again.” She gave Ansgar a coy smile. “I thought it was a real shame when he left. You two make such a lovely couple. I had such hopes for another wedding in the near future.”

“Couple?” The floor seemed to shift beneath Evie’s feet. “I don’t know what—”

“Ansgar and Evie just met, Mama,” Addy said, giving Bitsy a hard look. “Remember, we talked about it?”

Bitsy looked flustered. “Oh, yes. I-I remember now. I must be thinking of somebody else. Being in the funeral business, I meet so many people, you know. Why, I—”

She faltered, staring out the window with a flabbergasted look on her face. It took a lot to render Hibiscus Corwin speechless, so Evie knew right away something was up.

Something big. Something unusual.

Evie turned. A round-faced woman with blue eyes framed by a stubby halo of hot pink hair peered through the storefront window at them.

It was something unusual, all right. It was Mullet Woman, in all her glory.

Chapter Fifteen

N
icole wore a clingy zebra-patterned camisole and a matching gauzy top. Her black jeggings were stuffed into lime green yeti boots. Plastic miniature pumpkins dangled from her earlobes. A flashing jack-o’-lantern hung around her neck from a black cord, turning the deep valley between her breasts a glowing safety orange. An enormous orange and green cheetah print bag hung from one shoulder. Under her other arm she held Frodo. The demon dog was dressed to match his mistress in a zebra print cone of shame with orange and green ribbon trim.

Nicole waved at Evie and started for the door.

“What an odd person,” Bitsy said, finding her voice. “And what’s that she’s carrying, a possum?”

“It’s not a possum, Miss Bitsy,” Evie said. “It’s a Chihuahua.”

Bitsy pursed her lips in thought. “The mayor has a pet possum. Must be some kind of fad. I don’t think people should keep wild animals as pets. It’s not sanitary.”

Addy rolled her eyes. “It’s not a possum, Mama. Evie said.”

“Huh.” Bitsy looked unconvinced. “What’s the matter with her hair? Looks like she cut it with a weed whacker, bless her heart.”

Oh, dear, Bitsy just dissed poor Nicole big time. In the South, you could say anything about another person, no matter how horrible, as long as you tacked a “bless his or her heart” on the end of it. Like,
she’s so ugly, she’d make a train take a dirt road, bless her heart.
Or,
if brains were leather, he wouldn’t have enough to saddle a gnat, bless his heart
.

Nicole burst into the shop and rushed up to Evie. “Please tell me I ain’t too late,” she said over the noise of Frodo’s snarling. She gave the dog a little shake. “Hush, Precious. Mommy can’t hear herself think.”

The dog’s snarling subsided to a low rumble.

Bitsy whirled around. Addy was fond of saying her mama’s glare was an incendiary device, and Bitsy had her lasers on lock. “Too late for what?” she demanded of Addy. “What’s she talking about?”

“Nothing, Mama.”

“Don’t you nothing me, Adara Jean Corwin,” Bitsy said. “Something’s going on here, and I mean to Get to the Bottom of It.”

Evie’s heart sank. Bitsy would give Addy hell if she hired someone like Nicole to work in the shop, someone with bad hair who mixed her animal prints and wore hairy shoes.

Addy would do it anyway—for Evie—but that left Evie between a rock and a hard place. She wanted to help Nicole, but she didn’t want to tick off Addy’s mama. You did
not
want to get on Hibiscus Corwin’s bad side. It was a mile wide, and people had been known to stay there for years.

Oh, Lord. Nothing to do but forge ahead and hope for the best. She
liked
Nicole. Granted, Mullet Woman’s hair was a Technicolor disaster and her taste in clothes might not be up to Bitsy standards, but she seemed comfortable in her own skin.

Evie envied her that. A lot.

She pretended not to notice the sparks of irritation that popped off Bitsy like embers off a burning log, and offered Nicole a reassuring smile. “You’re fine.”

“Whew,” Nicole said, looking relieved. “I’d ’uv been here sooner, but me and Frodo couldn’t get across the river, on account of there was a wreck on the bridge. A poultry truck tumped over, and there were chickens everywhere. Birds on top of cars and all over the road. That chicken farmer was beside himself, scrambling around trying to round them all up.”

“Oh, dear,” Evie said. “It sounds like a mess.”

“It was. And that’s not the worst of it. A whole bunch of them chickens jumped off the bridge, like they knew they were done for anyway if they reached that processing plant. I tell you, it was a poultry suicide pact or some kind of chicken cult.”

“Chicken cult?” Evie tried to wrap her brain around that concept. “I’m not quite sure I follow—”

“Maybe chickens ain’t as stupid as people think,” Nicole said darkly. “Maybe chickens are
aware
.” She rested Frodo on one hip. “The ringleader ’peared to be a big buff Orpington. That rooster hopped up on the railing and let out a crow loud enough to wake the dead. Then he jumped, and the rest of them chickens followed like lemmings.”

“Lemming chicken, one of my favorites,” Evie murmured, struggling not to laugh.

“Chickens are like turkeys.” Nicole’s round face was earnest, and she didn’t seem to notice Evie’s wisecrack. “They can fly short distances, but they ain’t got the wing power to carry ’em off a bridge. And these birds had been plumped up for the market, see? They dropped like bricks. It was terrible. The police came and the volunteer fire department, and a reporter from the newspaper. I thought this one officer was gonna have a heart attack. He kept stomping around and cussing and throwing his hat on the ground.”

“Oh, my goodness!” Bitsy’s scowl was replaced by an expression of alarm. “That sounds like Car-lee. I’d better go check on him. He has high blood pressure. Muddy, come with me. We can talk about the wedding.”

“Vomit,” Muddy said. “No thanks.”

“Suit yourself.”

Bitsy grabbed her purse and hurried out the door.

Nicole turned to Evie with anxious eyes. “Anyway, that’s why I’m late. Is that delivery job still available?”

“I think so, but you’ll have to ask the boss.” Evie led Nicole and the still grumbling dog over to the counter. “Nicole, this is Addy Corwin, the owner of the shop. Addy, this is Nicole Eubanks, the woman I was telling you about.”

“Nice to meet you.” Addy stared at Nicole like she had two heads. And she did—sort of—what with the pink and yellow hair. “Uh, nice dog.”

Mullet Woman clutched Frodo to her bosom. “Thanks.”

“Nicole, this is Addy’s aunt, Muddy Fairfax,” Evie said, indicating the older woman.

“Great-aunt,” Muddy said, studying Nicole like a bug. “That’s a pimping zebra space collar your dog’s got. Where’d you get it?”

“I made it. Covered it in Duck Tape and added the ribbons myself,” Nicole said proudly. “Frodo and I always wear matching outfits.” She lovingly traced the black and white stripes on the dog’s cone with the tip of one finger. “This is called ‘zigzag zebra,’ but there are lots more patterns to choose from.”

Muddy nodded. “Duck Tape’s the bomb. I use it to yank the hair off my legs when I can’t get to the salon.”

Addy wrinkled her nose. “Ew. TMI, Muddy.”

“Don’t use it on your face though,” Muddy said. “It’ll give you a mother of a hickey.”

Nicole nodded as though committing this tidbit of wisdom to memory. “Duck Tape’s powerful stuff.”

“You met Ansgar yesterday,” Evie said, finishing the round of introductions, “and this is his brother, Brand Dalvahni.”

Mullet Woman started as the two warriors stepped forward, like she hadn’t noticed them standing there.

Which was like not noticing a pink elephant in the room.

It wasn’t Nicole’s fault. Ansgar and Brand had used their Dalvahni woo woo to fade into the background. Maybe they were feeling overwhelmed by all the estrogen in the atmosphere. Whatever the reason, they’d managed to make themselves inconspicuous; quite a trick for two such lip-smackingly bonzo-gorgeous guys.

Only they weren’t inconspicuous anymore. They were fully visible and dripping Dalvahni sex appeal. It oozed out of their pores and formed a nimbus of yum around them. It was like they’d dimmed their inner lights and then flashed them to bright. The effect was blinding.

“Mistress Nicole,” Ansgar said in his hypnotic voice.

Brand smiled. “A pleasure to meet you, Nicole.”

Thwack!
The combination of Ansgar’s bedroom voice and Brand’s dazzling smile was too much for poor Nicole. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes glazed over like a drunk on a three-day toot.

Evie could relate. She had a hunch she wore that same wide-mouth bass expression a lot around Ansgar. In fact, she was probably wearing it right now.

She tested the hinge on her jaw. Yep, hanging wide open. Ansgar had done it again.

She closed her mouth. “Nicole?” She would have tapped Mullet Woman on the shoulder, but Frodo had lapsed back into full snarl mode and she didn’t want to lose an arm. “Are you all right?”

“Jeezy peezy,” Nicole cried, staggering back. “There’s two of ’em.” She wobbled over to a chair near a potted fern and sat down. “One’s bad enough, but two? They’re like twin orgasms on legs.”

Muddy chuckled. “Twin orgasms on legs. Wish I’d said that.”

“You will,” Addy muttered.

Evie hurried over to Nicole. “You’re awfully pale. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Nicole said, shushing the growling dog. She plunked Frodo on her lap, pulled a Kleenex out of her oversized cheetah purse, and wiped her brow. “Having a woozy spell. Guess I’m more nervous about the job than I thought.”

Evie frowned. Nicole’s complexion was pasty. She’d moved to Hannah to save Frodo from Sylvester Snippet. Moving took money, and Nicole didn’t have a job.

“When’s the last time you ate?” she demanded.

“Oh, you know. I eat plenty.” Nicole waved a hand at her generous thighs. “Look at me. You can see I ain’t exactly starving.”

“Uh huh,” Evie said. “How many meals has Frodo missed?”

Nicole bristled. “That’s different. He’s my Precious.”

“That’s what I thought.” Evie straightened. “Ansgar, would you mind running down to the Sweet Shop and getting Nicole something to eat?”

“Oh, no,” Nicole stammered. “I couldn’t let you do that.”

“But I insist.” Ansgar gave Evie a hot, intimate look that made her heart rate speed up and kicked her hormones into overdrive. “I will go and gladly, but I will not run.”

“Dude, it’s an expression,” Addy said. “Pick me up an order of Miss Vi’s orange rolls and some Conecuh sausage while you’re at it.”

BOOK: Demon Hunting In the Deep South
13.27Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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